Close Your Eyes And You'll See What I See
by chalantness
Summary: "I spent ten days in Rio with half of that time in bathing suits and I never once went in the water. I think I deserve a little midnight dip."


**Title:** _Close Your Eyes And You'll See What I See  
_**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** ~1,900  
**Characters:** Steve/Natasha  
**Summary:** "I spent ten days in Rio with half of that time in bathing suits and I never once went in the water. I think I deserve a little midnight dip."

**A/N:** Though this is inspired by the amazing bikini comment in _The Winter Soldier_, it actually ignores the event so of the movie because: A) I hadn't realized I ignored canon until I'd already finished the story, and B) S.H.I.E.L.D. is only mentioned once, so I didn't feel like correcting it. But I _will_ write other stories that canonically agree with movie, I promise!

**Close Your Eyes And You'll See What I See**

It's a little before 4:00 in the morning when she lets herself into the apartment, after Tony's dropped her off at Steve's building rather than her own again. She's not under any impression that this is an accident.

He does it every time.

She _is_ still a little unsure as to why Tony's made it his responsibility to pick her up from the airport in the first place, but it's probably because he hacked S.H.I.E.L.D. and is one of the few people that actually gets alerts whenever she's en route back home. He also has a soft spot for her, even if he likes to pretend he doesn't, or else he wouldn't wake himself at whatever ridiculous hour she's scheduled to get in so he can drive her home from the airport himself – or rather, sit in the back with her while Happy takes her to Steve's. Pepper will sometimes be in the car with him, too, giving her a tired yet pleasant smile and a hug, and even on the days where they're both out of town when she gets back, he'll still send a car.

That's a bigger deal than it seems when it's coming from Tony.

Anyway.

She drops her duffel onto the floor and pulls down the hood of her jacket, feeling entirely too _awake_ considering what little sleep she's gotten the past two days. She hadn't napped on her flight, even though it'd been ten hours long and the gunfire she'd dodged only an hour before boarding had left her tired.

It's hardly the first time she's found herself this restless after a mission, and she should be used to the irregular sleeping patterns, but she's not and that pisses her off.

Steve's footsteps are muted but still unmistakable as he makes his way over to her, obviously having heard her let herself in. She wasn't trying to be quiet about it like she normally might've, though, because Tony let Steve know he was dropping her off tonight and whenever Steve knows she's coming home, he'll stay up and wait for her. He doesn't even have to know the hour her flight is scheduled to come in. He just keeps himself occupied – usually by sketching, but sometimes he's watching TV or reading – and waits for her to come.

She switches on the light as he walks into the room, giving him a smile.

"Hey."

"Hi," he greets, sounding almost as awake as she feels. Other than Tony obviously being meddlesome, she suspects _this_ is another reason why she gets dropped her off here instead of her own place – if anyone's going to understand what it's like to be unable to sleep, it's Steve. He leans in to kiss her cheek, as per his usual greeting. "How was your flight?"

She laughs a little. "Crying kids, awful food, and quite possibly the worst movie selection ever offered. Remind me to switch my seat to first class next time."

"Sounds rough," he says, and he almost sounds like he means it, but he's _smiling_ and she rolls her eyes, grinning.

"Thanks for the comfort."

"Would a home-cooked meal make you feel better?" he asks, because he knows she's almost always hungry after a flight, though he slants his lips over hers before giving her a chance to reply. She closes her eyes and feels every muscle in her body relax for the first time since she left this same apartment for her briefing over a week ago. She lets herself lean against him, knowing very well that he'll hold them both up. "I missed you," he murmurs. He says this every time and always means it, and she never gets tired of hearing it.

"You better have," she says, and she says _this_ every time, because he knows what that really means. "And I _do_ want that home-cooked meal."

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, already moving towards the kitchen, but she grasps onto his shirt to hold him in place and he furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head a little in question.

"I didn't say I wanted it right _now_." He raises his eyebrows. "Let's go for a swim first."

"What?" he laughs.

"I spent ten days in Rio with half of that time in bathing suits and I never once went in the water. I think I deserve a little midnight dip. Besides," she adds, letting go of his shirt to slide her hand up his arm, and he smirks a little, knowing exactly what she's doing. "Your apartment facilities are 24 hours, and I just want to sit in the hot tub for a bit."

"Because a hot bath just isn't good enough?" he asks, but she knows that look in his eyes. He's already convinced.

"You know me so well." (She's teasing, but also not at all.) "Get changed or I leave without you."

She lifts her jacket and shirt over her head and tosses them aside, leaving her in her jeans and her navy lace bra, and Steve murmurs a, "Jeez," and smiles at her. She's never had someone look at her with as much adoration as Steve does, especially after she's taken off her clothes, and it's one of the few things that makes her heart beat a little faster and her skin feel a little warmer and she kind of (absolutely) loves it. She unbuttons the top of her jeans but pauses as he presses a kiss to her forehead and says, "Don't leave without me."

Of course she won't.

Steve disappears down the hallway and she tugs her duffel open, pulling out the first bathing suit she finds – a teal, strappy two-piece that she actually didn't get a chance to wear in Rio. She slips into it and pulls the top into place as Steve walks back into the room, looks over her shoulder at him and asks, "Give a lady a hand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and she holds her hair up as he knots the strings into place behind her neck. It should be silly, really, the way his fingertips make her skin tingle.

She turns around and kisses him once he's done, just because, and he blinks in surprise but just gets this smile on his face and doesn't say anything. She's sporadic with when and how she shows affection and he doesn't mind it, actually really loves it, and she's more grateful for that than you'd think. She's infinitely more comfortable with not being so worried and cautious and over-analyzing when she's with Steve, because he's so relaxing to be around and there's nowhere she feels safer than with him. At the same time, though, it's hard to break habits. She still has her moments and her moods, but she never has to worry about doing or saying something wrong because she _can't. _He'll always understand or try to.

Steve's surprising like that.

She grabs his keys and he drapes two towels over his shoulder, and he takes her hand when they step into the elevator. It's cold, obviously, but it's a refreshing change from the heat in Rio and she likes it this way. You can bundle up for the cold but the heat is just something you endure.

The building housing the pool area is entirely glass, so they see as they're walking over to it that they have the place entirely to themselves, which was what they were expecting anyway. She has only met a handful of Steve's neighbors, and she knows all about not judging by one's cover, but no one in this complex looks like they'd be insomniacs.

She can feel Steve watching her as she messes with the Jacuzzi's settings, which is nothing new – he's always staring at her – but he's also running his fingers over her side.

"Stop," she breathes, trying not to squirm. "It's fine."

"It's not going to sting when you get in the water?" He's still tracing the wound. It's healed and even begun to fade, so it's not really noticeable against her skin, but Steve knows every inch of her body. He knows this scar is new and it's bothering him.

"Not at all," she replies easily, dipping her hand into the water to check the temperature. "Are you going to dwell or are you going to come in with me?"

His lips tug into another smile. "I don't see why I can't do both."

She laughs lightly and swings her legs over the edge, lowering herself into the water. The bench is low and the water's always filled to the very top, so her shoulders are almost completely submerged, though the water barely touches Steve's shoulders even as he's slumping in against the corner. She splashes him just for the sake of doing so and he just laughs and shakes out his hair, even though she barely wet it. Then she tips her head back and closes her eyes, the warmth of the water dissolving the dull ache in her muscles.

After a moment, she opens her eyes and finds Steve just looking at her, this small smile on his face.

"See?" She reflects his smile. "It doesn't hurt a bit."

"Not why I'm watching you, but that's still good to hear," he admits. She tilts her head. "It's just nice to see you look so relaxed."

Her lips part, though she's unsure of what to say. Or rather, she _knows_ what she wants to say but doesn't really know how to put it into words. But she tries, anyway. "Every look I have with you is me when I'm relaxed, because I'm always relaxed with you."

He looks surprised for a moment and she just holds his gaze, feeling her own smile form as a very pleased, very _Steve_ kind of smile crosses his face. "Come here," he says, reaching for her, and she slides herself down the bench until she's pressed against him, his arm draping around her shoulders as he brings her closer, kissing her gently on the lips. She leans up and places a hand against his cheek, kissing him again, a little deeper and a little harder. He hums a bit after they've parted, meeting her gaze as he says, "You're so beautiful."

She blinks, surprised. Not by him calling her beautiful, since he compliments her all the time, but because it seems kind of… _random_ in this moment.

"Where's this coming from?" she asks, amused.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I just… I realized that I forgot to tell you earlier, how amazing you look in your bathing suit."

"Steve," she says softly, because she knows what he's trying to do.

"You always look beautiful," he continues, as if she hadn't said anything, and she feels his other hand tug gently on the knot at her hip holding her bikini bottom in place. "And I'm glad I finally get to see you in a bikini, even though you probably only bought it to seduce a target."

"It was Rio. Bikinis are practically a mandated uniform there." She tilts her head, smiling. "And maybe I was given those bathing suits for the mission, but I didn't end up having to wear this particular one." He just watches as she moves to straddle his hips, their gaze never breaking, and she sets her hands on his shoulders. "You're the first to see me in it."

"Well," he says, eyes shifting over her admiringly as he gets that smile on his face again. "It's no surprise that you do wonders for it."

"I hope you know your gentlemanly act makes you sound so _incredibly_ corny," she says with a laugh." He shrugs, entirely too pleased with himself. "You're lucky I love it."

"You better," he says, eyes sparkling, and she knows exactly what he means.


End file.
